


Not Quite a Job for a Cure Spell

by Kaoru_chibimaster



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddles, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Post DoC, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaoru_chibimaster/pseuds/Kaoru_chibimaster
Summary: Denzel and Marlene try their best™️
Relationships: Denzel & Marlene Wallace, Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Comments: 35
Kudos: 142





	1. Not So Happy Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Something short and sweet for Tifa's birthday. It's not quite finished but later chapters shouldn't take too long to come out.

There was something very wrong with today, Denzel had learned.

It was a sort of great mystery that had plagued 7th Heaven for the past two days. The anomaly that had closed shop doors until a replacement bartender could be found. The disruption in everyone's day to day routine.

Tifa was sick.

And not _coughcoughsneezesneeze_ sick.

Gross and sweaty and barfy and bedridden sick.

Denzel wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed sooner in all honestly.

Tifa was a trooper for certain but not even she could really hide the pale, sweaty skin and the occasional pained expression. She brushed such things off with the determination of any mother working for a living and caring for two kids, even when it’s become more than simply an inconvenience to her.

Still, her nonchalance to the entire situation made it that much easier for Denzel not to pay it any mind, and even Marlene reluctantly gave it a rest when Tifa told her not to worry.

And then the next morning, Tifa simply never got out of bed.

It was insanity. It was anarchy. How could a woman who lived by schedules and punctuality _not get out of bed?_

Though to be fair…it hadn’t really registered to Denzel until he noticed that no one was cooking breakfast. The smell of eggs and pancakes and sausages failed to waft up the stairs as Denzel got himself ready for school. And in his investigation of the kitchen, the lounge and even the bar proper, he found no sign of Tifa. Anywhere.

That was where the panic settled in.

“Calm down, Den,” Marlene's shaky, worried, decidedly-not-calm voice squeaked. “I’m sure she's okay.”

_Okay?_ What could possibly have been okay about a missing Tifa?

“What if she was kidnapped or something?”

“Well, we'd have heard it right? She wouldn’t let someone take her without a fight…”

For being nine, Marlene was surprisingly insightful. And she had a point.

“Maybe she's in her room?” had been the next suggestion before quickly being followed up by the bustle of feet on stairs as the two rushed to Tifa and Cloud's room.

Denzel made sure to reach the door first, just in case. Gently pushing Marlene behind him, he knocked on the door before calling out Tifa's name.

Silence.

It was unlikely she wouldn’t hear him: she didn’t wear headphones if Cloud wasn’t there, she never turned the TV up loud, and there was no bathroom in there that she might be occupying behind another closed door. Something was up then.

For good measure, Denzel knocked once more in hopes of an answer—only to be answered with more silence—before finally twisting the doorknob and letting himself in when it gave.

“Denzel!” Marlene complained. They weren’t allowed in that room without permission, after all. But this was clearly an emergency!

“Tifa,” Denzel tried again, voice quiet to match the dark of the room.

A loud, growling sound, like a bear or something, answered him.

Denzel nearly jumped out of his skin, fists raised in self-defense, just the way Tifa showed him…or at least as best he could get, as his pulse spiked and the sound of it pounded in his ears. He'd been right. Something was in that room and Tifa was in danger and—

Marlene pulled at his uniform sleeve, pointing at a lump on the bed. Another harsh, loud, jarring sound met his ears and he tensed again before Marlene's next words had soothed him.

“I guess she still asleep.”

Oh.

_Ohh_.

So that sound…

“Is she…snoring?” Denzel asked, tone bland with disbelief.

To think such a sound could come from someone so gentle.

“Yeah, but it sounds off,” Marlene said, tapping a finger to her chin in thought.

“I'll say,” Denzel snorted. “She sounds like a wolf fused with a malboro.”

He'd earned an elbow to the side for that, but it was true nonetheless.

“ _I mean_ , she sounds like she's sick. That’s probably why she’s still asleep too.”

“Ugh…”

That must’ve been one hell of a stuffy nose, then. Denzel couldn’t even recall a time where Tifa had ever been sick. Even Cloud—strong, unfazed, infallible Cloud—had fallen victim to Geostigma two years ago. He’d even been caught with a minor cold a few times, no matter how hard he always tried to hide it. Tifa though? What did one do when _Tifa_ was sick? She was _never_ sick.

What was worse? It just so happened to be her birthday.

What a way to spend it.

“Should we call Cloud?” Marlene asked tentatively. There was a meekness in her voice that told Denzel she already knew what the answer to her question was. Cloud was on a long-distance special-order delivery and most likely in Kalm by now. No way he'd get back at any point within the next week. Not unless a miracle happened, and Cid swung by with his airship.

Denzel was half tempted to try and call Cid to make that happen, but he had no clue how long it took to get to Edge from Rocket Town on an airship.

And he wasn’t really in the mood to get cussed and fussed at the entire time either. Being twelve didn’t exactly give him the leeway to cuss and fuss back.

“No. We’re old enough. We’ll take care of her ourselves.”

“Wha—Denzel! We can’t just skip school! You know how mad Tifa’s gonna be? You know how mad Daddy would be once he found out?”

“He wouldn’t be mad at _you_! And I’m not his responsibility, so…”

It was a good excuse at face value, but Denzel was well aware that Barret would have one hell of a lecture ready for him once he found out Denzel convinced Marlene to skip.

If he found out.

“So I’ll just call the school and let them know why we’re skipping. But we’re not gonna leave Tifa alone like this, okay?”

Marlene pouted for a moment, visibly waffling between whether or not to stay and help Tifa or go to school like a “good girl should”. Pah. They hadn’t even been re-enrolled until that whole Deepground mess had been cleaned up. School hadn’t mattered then and why should it now? All it did was get in the way of things that _did_ matter.

Like Cloud, Tifa had taken Denzel in and gave him a warm bed to sleep in, good food to eat, and some semblance of normalcy. It wasn’t the family he’d lost, but that was fine. They weren’t a replacement: they were simply…more family. Cloud and Tifa would never really be his parents and Marlene would never really be his sister, but he considered them so regardless. They _became_ that for him, no matter how they started out.

This was the least he could do.

“Here, I’ll make the call. Since you know how to work the stove, why don’t you fix Tifa some soup?”

“She can’t really eat it if she’s not awake,” Marlene sighed. Denzel could only shrug at that.

“She’s not gonna sleep forever.”

It’d at least give Marlene something to do other than stewing on the fact that she was missing school. It wasn’t even class she was worried about, Denzel knew. This was her normalcy too, and he’d learned that it made her anxious when things diverted from the status quo. She hadn’t outright denied the idea of taking care of a sick Tifa either though. Marlene cared for her too much to let an absent day get in the way.

She, much to Denzel’s relief, ran off in the direction of the kitchen, dumping her backpack in their room along the way. Footsteps thumped down the stairs and into the kitchen, followed by the clanging of pots and utensils and Denzel figured he wouldn’t have to worry about Marlene losing her nerve anytime soon. He certainly wouldn’t have to worry about helping her. He’d just a be hindrance in the kitchen anyway.

Instead, he skipped the stairs entirely and went for the opposite end of the hall where the office phone was. It’d been quiet this morning, thankfully considering how Tifa was now out for the count and neither child was good at answering business calls, which gave Denzel an odd peace of mind. Something he couldn’t quite explain, but he felt it nonetheless when he picked up the phone, finger hovered over the first digit in the school’s number.

Despite his earlier confidence…it was difficult that even _he_ felt nervous. How did one take care of a sick person who had otherwise never been sick? Denzel tried to think back to the times Tifa had cared for him when Geostigma made him too weak to get out of bed or too tired to leave the bar, but he couldn’t imagine treating her with the same maternal gentleness she’d showed him. It’d be awkward coming from a kid, wouldn’t it? Adamant as he was to help, he had no clue what he was getting into.

It’d go okay though, right? He had Marlene to help and she tended to have a better head on her shoulders than most adults. There was medicine in the cabinets and an orb of Heal materia if push came to shove. Cloud had taught both Denzel and Marlene how to use materia, so they wouldn’t be floundering if they needed it. It was a last resort though; neither kid had the sort of stamina needed to cure an illness with it, so at most it’d accomplish clearing a symptom of Tifa’s illness that medicine might not cover. They’d try it if it came to that, though Denzel hoped that it wouldn’t.

She’d probably be mad at them for digging it out, considering that they weren’t really allowed to actually use materia at all just yet…

Well, she was always taking care of them. It was about time they returned the favor, school and house rules be damned.

With that in mind, Denzel started dialing.

As well as crossing his fingers that the secretary answered rather than that ornery vice principal.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: "it shouldn't take too long to get the next chapter out"
> 
> Also me: _*crying in three different zine projects that all have check-ins in May*_
> 
> ~~Sorry I couldn't get this out faster~~

“So at the very least—”

The annoyed look Marlene shot at Denzel did little to quiet him, though he couldn’t quite deny letting his gaze flit away from hers and towards the stove.

“—nothing caught on fire.”

That was the silver lining. Nothing suddenly combusted and neither child had to break out the fire extinguisher.

This was, of course, a miniscule accomplishment considering the dripping mess that was once a pot of soup splattered over the stove.

And the floor…and the ceiling.

“I thought you knew how to use the stove anyway,” Denzel sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck as he surveyed the damage. It was something pale yellow and brothy, giving off a strong stench of cooking onions and ginger, and whatever Marlene was making with it was at least sure to clear Tifa’s sinuses. It even made Denzel’s nose twitch.

Of course, this was all a moot point now that the soup was coating a quarter of the kitchen in a thin, sticky layer.

“I do know how to use the stove!” Marlene huffed, stamping her foot and causing a mini splash that splattered her stocking in broth. “I could’ve been watching it if _someone_ hadn’t gotten into a shouting match with the vice principal!”

“He was threatening us with absentee notes! I wasn’t gonna just sit there and take that!”

Cloud always said not to let authority figures push him around because they were always out to take advantage. Even Barret told both Marlene and Denzel to stand up for themselves when they felt they were being treated unfairly. Denzel was simply following their advice; he certainly never asked Marlene to barge in and grab the phone from him. He thought he’d done a pretty good job saving them from potential expulsion. _That_ wouldn’t have gone over well with the people in their lives that actually mattered.

How Marlene calmed the VP down so quickly, he’d never figure out. It was both a blessing and a…

Well, a… _this_.

Look away from the stove for a few minutes and the soup explodes. Who woulda thought?

“Besides,” he sighed, looking over the mess once more. “You’re not supposed to walk away when you’re cooking anyway. Tifa told you that.”

“I know. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay…”

Ah. She was pouting now. Marlene was never facetious about her emotions and Denzel knew it wasn’t a guilt trip fueling the watery eyes or trembling shoulders. She was genuinely apologetic for letting the soup, er, explode, and it wouldn’t have been right to let her stew like that.

Ignoring the sticky mess covering the floor, Denzel crossed the distance between himself and Marlene to pull her into a one-armed hug, patting her head with his free hand. Marlene had a lot of skills many kids her age didn’t, but she was still nine. It was one honest mistake; everyone made those.

“It’s okay, Marlene. It happens. Remember when Cloud accidentally knocked over Tifa’s top shelf bottles with his sword handle that one time?”

It was something to behold. All he’d done was turn around and suddenly there was a crash so big that people walking the street outside could hear it. Denzel had never seen Cloud’s face turn so red. In fact, he hadn’t even known it was possible.

Proof that anyone could find themselves in a bad situation. That didn’t make them a bad person or mean that they needed to be punished. Denzel would even help Marlene clean it up; after all, it’d happened in the first place because she wanted to help him.

“I do, but—” Marlene started, and Denzel cut her off before there could be any self-deprecating.

Though not with the reassurance he’d initially planned. Not when something caught his attention. Something concerning…

“Wait…you smell that?”

Marlene was a cross between indignance and curiosity, her face still locked in a pout even as she sniffed at the air.

“It…smells like…”

Like the stove was on fire.

Because it was.

“Marlene, move!” Denzel shouted, unnecessarily so as he’d already grabbed her shoulder and dragged her away from the stove. Just in time too, as the smoke that started to waft from the now blackened pot quickly escalated into flames.

“Oh no!” The beginnings of panic started to brighten in Marlene’s wide eyes and Denzel was already shaking her out of it before it could grip into her. Freaking out would not help, but putting the fire out was a priority and if it meant sending Marlene off to grab the fire extinguisher then that was what was going to happen.

“Go get the extinguisher!” he all but shouted in her ear, feeling a twinge of guilt when she flinched away. It was quickly replaced with relief at her determined nod. In the meantime, Denzel tried to put the lessons his parents had taught him about stove fires to use. There was something his mom said about… What was it…?

Baking soda? At least, he hoped it was that. The fire was still confined to the stove but if neither he nor Marlene did something quick, that would easily change. The entire building was made of wood and there was a crap load of alcohol nearby to conveniently make things worse.

He’d have to go with baking soda for now.

For what felt like minutes had truly only been seconds of decision making before Denzel settled on his choice and made a mad dash for the cabinets.

Only to slip on the soup coating the floor and fall flat on his ass. Because of course he would…

Grimacing, Denzel felt at the back of his head where it had smacked into the floor and tried to push down the worry bubbling up in his chest when he couldn’t distinguish between whether or not it was soup soaked into his hair or blood. He didn’t feel dizzy or lightheaded, but the spot throbbed like a bitch. He found himself grumbling irately under his breath as he slowly stood up on shaking limbs, glad to see that at least there wasn’t a smudge of red on his palm. He probably earned himself a goose egg though.

It was really a saving grace when Marlene came running back into the room, sporting a fire extinguisher that was maybe half her height and looked like it might’ve outweighed her. Heavy duty considering how this was a bar and the threat of a fire getting out of control was a much bigger deal here. Still, Denzel stared at Marlene’s noodly arms in wonder and questioned dazedly how she could possibly be carrying that thing.

“Move out the way, Denzel!”

Oh, right! That thing that she was about to use to put out the fire.

Denzel quickly scooted out of Marlene’s way, careful not to slip again, and watched as she rather expertly pulled the pin out, aimed the nozzle at the stove and…fired.

He’d save that one for later. Might make Marlene laugh once this was all over.

She’d probably need it too, considering how she nearly got knocked off her feet once it started spraying. Half of that, Denzel figured, was likely from her jumping in fright (after all, she’d never used a fire extinguisher before) but he reached out and balanced her anyway.

Not in time to stop the spray from splattering the floor, the stove fan, and the cabinets above it, unfortunately. By the time the actual fire was put out, they’d just made a bigger mess. Denzel couldn’t help the grimace that pulled at his face as he squished through the mixture of chemicals and soup to turn the burner off. What a mess.

“Could this get any worse?” he sighed.

“What’s going on in here…?”

Apparently, it could.

Denzel twitched in surprise against his better judgment. It was still a recognizable voice underneath a thick layer of stuffiness and a scratchy croak. Though that could’ve been what made it so discomforting to hear when he thought about it.

“Um… Sorry, Tifa,” Marlene mumbled, head low as she clung to the fire extinguisher with tight fingers and white knuckles.

Grimacing sheepishly, Denzel turned towards Tifa and offered a wordless look of apology as well.

It slipped away into pure sympathy once he got a good look at her.

One wouldn’t typically describe Tifa Lockhart the way she looked now: hair lanky and matted with sweat, skin papery and pale, posture slumped from exhaustion, and topped off with a pair of bags under her eyes that gave the impression that she hadn’t slept in about a century.

It didn’t help that her nose was about the same shade of red as her eye color, and when she sniffled, there was a whistling sound akin to a teapot on boil.

Definitely sick. Very, _very_ sick.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Denzel found himself asking before he could consciously stop the question from slipping through.

Tifa snorted at him and it sounded painful.

“What, are you Cloud now? I smelled something burning and heard shouting. Just wanted to make sure you two were okay.”

The words were weak and wobbly, interjected with throat clearing and more nose whistling. At the sound of it, Marlene jumped into action and grabbed an actual teapot (electric, thankfully) from the lower cabinets before gathering a number of things to dump into Tifa’s old Costa Del Sol mug sitting on the counter. Ginger and honey and some orange powder that Denzel didn’t even know was edible until now, and he was already wrinkling his nose at the idea that someone would want to _drink_ that concoction.

Ah well. Marlene knew what she was doing, so Denzel wouldn’t question it. He just hoped Tifa wasn’t contagious so he wouldn’t have to end up drinking it too.

“We’re fine,” Marlene answered before Denzel could stuff another foot into his mouth. “Nothing’s on fire.”

Anymore.

“Clearly, since you put it out,” Tifa pointed out, nodding at the fire extinguisher that Marlene had dropped to make the tea. Marlene’s back was to Tifa to hide the embarrassed flush that had spread all too quickly across the bridge of her nose.

“We didn’t mean to…” she trailed off. Denzel raised his eyebrows at Tifa and shrugged, trying to pass off some semblance of innocence and just barely catching the disconcerted wrinkle of her brow.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be at school?”

“Well we couldn’t do that when you’re stuck in bed sick,” Denzel said. Tifa looked like she was about to start chewing him out when she opened her mouth and he was quick to cut her off. “No, I mean it! You never get sick! We couldn’t just leave you like that! What if it was serious?”

Slowly, Tifa clamped her mouth shut. What had been the sparks of anger building up in her eyes quickly fizzled into nothing, replaced with a tired droop. She really must’ve forced herself out of bed to check on them.

Even as she hobbled over to him, steps careful even when the mess on the floor started to soak into her socks, everything looked labored. Her breaths were short, her shoulders were shaking…there was something of a grateful smile that her mouth attempted to form but even that lacked the typical enthusiasm one could expect from Tifa. Denzel didn’t think twice before meeting her halfway to hold her steady.

It was odd, really. He hadn’t thought about it before but he really was growing a lot lately. People told him all the time but it didn’t really hit him until he realized he was nearly as tall as Tifa now. Just another reminder of how much time has passed since she and Cloud took him in. They truly were his family, caring for him and watching him grow and making sure they could do their best for him. They seen a lot of his milestones and, with luck, would see plenty more in the future.

How could he turn his back on that?

Maybe this wasn’t the most serious of situations to consider that in, not when it looked like Tifa just had a really nasty cold, but it occurred to him nonetheless. What was a day of school missed if it meant giving back just a little?

“That’s kind of you to think that way,” Tifa grinned, ruffling Denzel’s hair before turning to Marlene. “Both of you.”

Marlene, who’d been stirring up Tifa’s tea, sent a sheepish smile over her shoulder.

“But…” Ah. They were still going to get chewed out apparently. “That doesn’t mean skipping your responsibilities just to take care of me. It’s nothing serious, I’ll get over it in a day or two. Besides, I can’t really recover if you two are setting my kitchen on fire.”

Painful as it was to hear, she had them there.

“It really was an accident,” Marlene mumbled, carrying the mug over their little kitchen table—something personal that didn’t involve sitting out with a bunch of Happy Hour boozers to eat meals—while Denzel helped her into a chair. They all took a seat, in fact. Turned out the aftermath of an adrenaline rush was exhausting.

“I know. Not like either of you would do it on purpose.” Tifa cleared her throat again and it sounded like a car engine starting. Not that it did much as her voice was still croaky. “And don’t get me wrong, I am thankful that you both were thinking so much of me. That’s very sweet.”

“Of course we’re thinking of you, Tifa! Even if it’s just a tiny cold, you don’t want to let it go unchecked,” Marlene nodded sagely. Despite it being very basic advice, Tifa played along and nodded with her before taking a sip of her, uh…drink.

“Yuck,” Denzel muttered, eyeing the mug with a distaste usually reserved for monsters, cabbage, and that weird guy Johnny that lived down the street. He’d meant to be quiet about it but Marlene must’ve heard him anyway since she stuck her tongue out at him.

“It’s not gross! I should make you some tea too. You could use something other than soda every once in a while.”

Denzel sent one more look at the pungent, murky drink before making a face at Marlene.

“Hell no.”

It was _orange_. What kinda tea was supposed to be _orange_?!

“Don’t be rude, Denzel. She’s just looking out for you,” Tifa sighed. If there was one saving grace to that nasty looking “tea”, it was that it seemed to relax Tifa at least.

“ _Fine_ ,” he huffed. “No thanks.”

He’d drink more water if that’d appease her. No way was he touching that “tea”.

“Fine by me,” Marlene shrugged. “It’s really just to help Tifa feel better.”

Tifa cracked another smile at that, taking a long sip from her mug before setting it down and leaning forward on the table.

“You know what else would help me feel better?”

Denzel and Marlene both looked at Tifa expectantly, watching as she donned a pointed look and jerked a thumb behind her.

“Cleaning that mess up.”

Ah man. Well, there was no getting out of that…


	3. Though it Ended a little Happier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~one month later~
> 
> It's pure fluff. Enjoy!

After all was said and done, it really came down to a couple of kids staying home to help someone they love feel better, and it wouldn’t have felt right to Tifa to reprimand them further. Besides, if she worried them enough for them to skip school, despite knowing that Barret would’ve chewed them out to hell and back for it, then she supposed she could stand to take it a little more seriously and go get some rest.

Tifa wasn’t used to being sick.

She’d fallen to illness everyone once and a while like any other kid when she was a child, but she’d found that after training with Zangan, more than just her stamina had improved. Her immune system was practically impenetrable. Even catching a cold was unheard of for her these days.

Go figure the first time she gets sick in years, she’s practically out for the count. Waking up to a fire in her kitchen didn’t help matters either…

At least it’d quieted down now. Thankfully.

Despite her protests, both children ended up clinging to her side so that they could all wind down and take a nap. To “get some energy”, Marlene had said. Really, Tifa figured it was because she and Denzel had exhausted themselves after cleaning up all the soup that had ended up on the floor…and the walls, and the ceiling too. On top of that, Marlene had set to work making another pot—one that graciously didn’t explode all over the kitchen—so she’d fully tuckered herself out.

Turning her head slightly, she peeked down at the girl tucked into her side and rubbed her back. It was crazy to Tifa how big she’d gotten; she used to be able to cuddle Marlene completely in her arms. Now Marlene covered her side from shoulder to mid-calf.

That wasn’t even to mention Denzel. He’d shot up like a weed, and now he was nearly as tall as Tifa. Still definitely a kid though. She couldn’t help laughing to herself as she stroked his hair, careful not to put too much pressure on the bump he’d landed himself with after slipping on the mess on the floor.

Honestly.

She could never be a replacement to their parents, but she couldn’t help thinking of them as her kids. They were as permanent as fixture in her life as her friends, her work, her love… The idea of them trying to take care of her during her small bout of illness tickled her pink. And maybe she couldn’t quite help the swell of pride that rose up in her at how capable they’d become. She couldn’t help the surge of love that hit her every time she looked at them.

Tifa hugged them closer. Hopefully she wasn’t too contagious, but it was really just a cold. Besides, if they did end up catching it, she had one hell of a favor to return.

She’d do it in a heartbeat.

The sound of familiar footsteps through the lower level of the bar quickly knocked her out of that train of thought before she could get lost in it though. Footsteps she hadn’t expected to hear for another week at best. They thumped slowly against the wood flooring, almost hesitant as they climbed the stairs. Stalling a bit in front of the door before it creaked open, and Tifa turned her head to find Cloud standing there. He was silent for a moment, taking in the scene of Tifa, still sweaty and pale from her cold, cuddled up with two kids who would’ve otherwise been walking home by this point. Only when his assessment finished did he finally speak.

“Hey,” he murmured, eyes flickering once more over the kids cuddled up to Tifa’s sides before meeting hers.

“You’re back early,” she smiled, cringing slightly at the terrible quality of her voice. She hadn’t paid it any attention earlier when she’d been only half-awake, but now it was a little painful both to listen to and to feel in her throat.

“Couldn’t miss your birthday,” he shrugged. It was such a…simple way to think that Tifa couldn’t help bursting into giggles. Even if they ended in a painful coughing fit.

“Tifa!” Cloud’s voice was a mixture of frantic worry and careful quiet, gaze flitting to the kids once more in hopes that he didn’t wake them, and Tifa waved him off. She’d taken her medicine, ate her soup, drank her tea, etcetera. There was nothing more she could really do but wait the rest of the cold out and any further worry would just be stressful.

“Don’t worry about it. Give it a day or two and I’ll be back in tip top shape.”

“…If you say so,” Cloud sighed. He seemed to have had enough of standing awkwardly in the door frame as he shuffled quietly over to their bed. There was still an oddly endearing hesitance in him that Tifa doubted would ever go away, no matter how many years they’d been together.

It was funny, actually, watching him sit down on the bed with such softness that the mattress barely dipped, reaching out to Tifa with a gloved hand before it stopped just above her cheek. Timidly, he pulled it away, expression crumpling out of worry and into guilt. Tifa couldn’t help but try to soothe it away with a smile, pulling her fingers out of Denzel’s curls to instead glide them in a gentle stroke along his back. Cloud relaxed into the touch almost instantly.

“Aren’t you worried they’ll catch what you have?” he asked, nodding down at the kids.

“I told them to go to their rooms, but they wouldn’t listen. Said I needed comfort more than they did. Whatever that means…”

An amused smile formed on Cloud’s lips at that, and Tifa drank the image up like an oasis in a desert. Even nowadays it was rare to catch a genuine smile on his face.

“You take care of them all the time. Maybe they thought they owed you back.”

“That’s how Denzel was thinking,” Tifa chuckled, thinking back to his reasoning behind him and Marlene skipping school. “He really is turning out a lot like you.”

“Hmm.”

“That’s not a bad thing, you know.”

Though the smile slid from Cloud’s expression, he at least seemed to take Tifa’s words to heart. Likely thinking that it was better than trying to argue with her, which, while it wasn’t really what she was going for, worked out just as well. She’d argue Cloud’s worth until she was blue in the face if she had to. It was long past time he accepted that.

“If you say so,” Cloud repeated, leaning back on his arms. His face was turned away and that was a sign that the subject could use a change.

Grinning playfully, Tifa traced little patterns across Cloud’s spine and marveled at how he practically _drooped_ at the feeling.

“So… What’d you get me for my birthday?”

A cake was likely. They did cake for everyone’s birthday every year, and Tifa wouldn’t be surprised if she’d find one miraculously sitting on the counter the next time she went down stairs. As for gifts, they tended to focus that more on Denzel and Marlene than themselves, but…

There was always at least something special they slipped in for each other.

“A pair of socks,” Cloud snorted, tone bland and expression blank.

Yeah, right.

“You’re really not gonna tell me?”

Cloud returned Tifa’s coy attitude with a smirk thrown over his shoulder.

“Nope. It stays a secret until you get better.”

Aw man…

Well. That just meant Tifa would have to focus on getting better as soon as possible.


End file.
